How is it that the body can be so sure of what to do
When the mind is clueless?
The blood in my veins returns to my heart,
I kiss you automatically,
Yet I am still so unsure.

I've never been one for clear cut precision,
In the making of decisions,
And now, more than ever, I doubt myself.

They tell me I'm not making sense,
That my thoughts are muddled,
That I am not making sensible decisions.
But, was it not those same sensible decisions
That have led me to where I now am?

I tell you assuredly, it was.

Though my mind is muddled,
My heart keeps pumping,
It is truly a wonder of engineering,
Effective machinery
With no use of an operator.

I will sit here for hours
Willing it to stop,
And it will pay me no heed.

For all of the things I know,
there are billions I don't.
So when I say I don't know,
whether I want to be with you,
always know,
the indecisiveness is deafening.

With every affirmation
My tongue trips over the unspoken  
Unrequited acceptance of current circumstance
My submission is insulting
Unbelieving, you see my lowered eyes as an attack
Belly up
I am confused
Unsure of what movements are appropriate
Frozen, doe-eyed and exhausted from the constant dance
Do I bow
Do I speak
Merely acknowledging my emotions
Sends shockwaves through the tentative peace
I was not built for this
A goddess prostrated
Stripped of her very core
Caged and chained
But it is almost as if my very attempt to accede
Is a declaration of war
What kind of existence is this
Trapped between personage and possession
My only purpose is to please.
Allow me.